


The Gryffindor “End of Bloody Sixth Year” Party

by aryastark_valarmorghulis



Series: Ficlets [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Coming Out, Confessions, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting Together, Hogwarts Era, Humor, Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Romance, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24524239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryastark_valarmorghulis/pseuds/aryastark_valarmorghulis
Summary: A quiet confession in the girls’ dormitory at 1 am gets interrupted...
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans (pre relationship), Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin - Relationship
Series: Ficlets [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1286798
Comments: 35
Kudos: 159





	The Gryffindor “End of Bloody Sixth Year” Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maraudorable (violentthunder)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violentthunder/gifts).



> Many thanks to [cantando_siempre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantando_siempre/pseuds/cantando_siempre) for the quick beta work and to [maraudorable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violentthunder/pseuds/maraudorable) for the wonderful prompt! I had so much fun writing this.  
> Edit: now with a wonderful [cover](https://starstruck4moony.tumblr.com/post/635146777465602048/happy-birthday-arya), thanks to the lovely [Starstruck4Moony](https://starstruck4moony.tumblr.com).

“You’re missing out on another round of spin the bottle.”

Marlene is already in her pajamas, sitting cross-legged under the quilt, her wand and a discarded book face–down on the bedding, staring at the red canopy instead of Dorcas, because it’s almost illegal to look _that_ good in Muggle jeans and a Gryffindor jumper.

“I’m not missing it, I’m avoiding it,” Marlene explains. “I’d rather snog the Giant Squid than kiss Peter _again_.”

Dorcas laughs and sits on Marlene’s bed, crouched knees bumping against her feet under the covers, clutching two Butterbeers in her hands and passing one to her. “He’s not very good, is he? Cheers.”

Marlene tries not to be so pathetically thrilled when her fingers brush against Dorcas’, but she fails. She _is_ pathetically thrilled, and by now she readily admits to herself that the highlight of The Gryffindor End of Bloody Sixth Year Party – in the words of a rather inebriated James Potter – is drinking Butterbeer with Dorcas on her bed at one A.M.

“Poor bloke is bloody awful, isn’t he? But at this point we’ve all kissed pretty much every fifth, sixth and seventh year so many times it’s starting to become incestuous,” Marlene jokes, and it makes Dorcas laugh. Her full cheeks dot with dimples and her dark eyes sparkle with mirth, not to mention the adorable way her curly ponytail bounces on her shoulder. Marlene almost, almost tells her how much the red and gold sweater complements her black skin, smooth as silk, and her long lashes – well, she’s aware she’s got it bad when she fantasizes about _lashes_.

“Aw, but don’t you want a chance to kiss Sirius Black?” Dorcas teases, and they both crack up. It’s an actual sentence they overheard a couple of fifth years saying just after Potter proposed another round of spin the bottle. It was Marlene’s cue to leave.

“No, thanks, his breath smells of cigarettes.” Marlene chugs on her Butterbeer. That isn’t the reason she hasn’t any interest in kissing him, but she isn’t totally sure Dorcas _sensed it_. Who knows. “And, frankly, if I have to watch Lily snogging Potter breathlessly _one more time_ and then pretending to gag as soon as they part, yelling he’s so horrible, I _swear_ I will spike her tea with Amortentia.”

Dorcas grins. “She’s getting more and more ridiculous – her face was redder than her hair, and she was _panting_.”

Marlene shrugs. She really never understood where the problem lies – sure, Potter can be insufferable, but Lily fancies him. _She_ doesn’t need to hide and pretend.

“… and then Mary had to kiss that Adrian kid –” Marlene grins because Dorcas calls sixteen years old _kids_ when she’s only seventeen “– and I think he wet his pants or something, and Georgia’s face when Sophie had to kiss Stephen? Priceless.”

Marlene dawns the rest of her Butterbeer, shaking her head fondly. It’s not that she feels too superior to enjoy the silly games her friends amuse themselves with, but sometimes it all becomes a bit overwhelming, the Muggle music blasted at full volume, the sweaty dancing, the gossip, Potter and Black being their loud selves, the inevitable Dungbomb ending every party.

The first and only time she could kiss a girl had been during a stupid game. It was Lily the first time, and Marlene came out to her and Mary a few months later – Dorcas was conveniently busy with Quidditch practice – and the fondest memory of that afternoon is the relief at their nonchalant support. “So, who do you prefer, McGonagall or Sprout?” Mary joked, and they all had a good laugh, after. Still, Marlene remembers how she couldn’t look at them in the eye in the jittery moments before speaking, how the tips of her fingers were tingling with uncast magic. (She still believes that choosing a moment when Dorcas was absent was like executing a perfect spell towards nothing, without taking aim.)

All irrational anxieties, of course, since both Mary and Lily had been so sweet when Dorcas came out as bisexual and absolutely nonchalant every time they caught Black snogging some bloke.

“By the way,” Dorcas goes on, her long fingers tracing imaginary patterns on the fringe of the red blanket Marlene’s mum knitted for her years ago. “I was thinking that _you_ haven’t kissed everyone...”

Marlene stares at her, a knot tightening in her stomach. On one hand, she doesn’t doubt Mary and Lily and she’s sure they haven’t told Dorcas, but on the other hand, Dorcas can be very perceptive. _Merlin_ , Marlene wants her to know but she also wants to burrow her face under the covers and never have to announce _I’m like this._ Can’t she just _be_?

“You haven’t kissed Remus,” Dorcas goes on, and for a split second relief and disappointment flow inside Marlene’s veins in equal measure.

“Yeah, well...” Marlene trails off. She watches Dorcas, her gaze still lowered to the blanket, the dark fan of her eyelashes casting a pretty shadow on her cheeks, remembering that before being her crush, Dorcas is her friend. When Dorcas told them about her bisexuality, it was the first week of September, this year, and she just recounted what happened with this girl she met in Greece during the summer. When Mary asked for gritty details, she just grinned and said _what happens in Mykonos stays in Mykonos,_ and Marlene laughed with the others, hoping the sudden stab of jealousy wasn’t written on her smiling face. She doesn’t possess Dorcas’ calm coolness, or an older sister who brings her along to Greece to have ‘experiences’. Marlene has a lot of siblings and not much spare money and only a matchstick garden in Cornwall to daydream in. But she’s still a Gryffindor, just like Dorcas, and she refuses to be scared of a friend. (Even if she’s half in love with her.)

“I’m not very interested in kissing Remus – or boys.” Simple as that. She breathes. She breathes, and she enjoys the light–headed feeling over the realization that the nervousness she expected never lands on her shoulders.

“Yes, I figured,” Dorcas replies.

 _Oh_. “How, is it written on my face?” Marlene jokes weakly. It’s not exactly shocking, that Dorcas knows, but still… _how_? And she can’t know about her feelings. Can she?

“Of course not...” Dorcas wrinkles her nose, her hand adjusting her ponytail and rubbing the back of her neck. She’s _nervous_ , Marlene realizes, bewildered. “I just… I pay a lot of attention. To you. Sometimes, I mean, not… all the time. Please Obliviate me now.”

It takes a moment for her words to sink in. Marlene’s face is hot and her pajama shirt is itchy on her skin, and it’s not that Dorcas is always effortlessly cool – she’s goofy and distracted before Quidditch matches and she whispers to plants during Herbology when she believes no one can hear her – but this feels different and _Merlin_ , Marlene should really say something at this point, something like _I’ve fancied you for a year, please could you just look at me._

“Well, Remus isn’t the only person I haven’t kissed. During that game.”

There’s a loud boom somewhere distant, but it might as well be in another world because in this dorm, in this bed, Marlene can only hear her own beating heart.

She’s just another McKinnon someone who never got a grade above E, whose hair becomes a nest whenever there’s too much wind, who gets mistaken for her sister, Margaret, by all the teachers, who still buys Sugar Quills so that she can pretend she’s paying attention in Divination, who’s never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend or anything more than secret crushes. Cool girls like Dorcas don’t fancy girls like Marlene. But then again, Dorcas isn’t a cool girl, she’s Dorcas – her friend, the one who taught her to fly and who prompts her during tests. Yes, even after McGonagall decked points when she got caught.

“I know...” Dorcas says, and she finally raises her head, a shy smile blooming on her lovely lips. “Earlier, I… I even Charmed the bottle so it would have pointed to us... before you left. I don’t know what went wrong, but it pointed to Peter again and after he licked my face I came here, really, he’s awful...” she’s blabbering.

“Well, we have a bottle here,” Marlene cuts in, surprising herself, because she’s usually more guarded than forward, but she can’t be reading this wrong, can she? “If you want…?”

And then they’re both leaning in to kiss each other sweetly, Marlene’s hands clutching a handful of Dorcas’ jumper, Dorcas’ thumbs stroking her hair, until they both smile too much to keep kissing, and Marlene has something warm and molten like happiness spreading in her chest.

“Did you really Charm the bottle?” Marlene asks, unable to stop smiling. She never thought to be the person that someone would want to kiss so badly they would Charm a bottle – these things don’t happen to her. Until Dorcas.

“I did!” Dorcas chuckles and kisses her nose. “And then you just left – _oh_ , no, do you hear them? Party’s over, I guess?”

There are, in fact, voices, loud voices, coming closer and closer – they both look at their joined hands over the quilt and then at each other, an unspoken conversation happening in the split second before the door clicks open. _Alright? Yes, alright._

Marlene squeezes Dorcas’ hand.

“You won’t believe what just happened!” Mary shrieks, barging in and clapping her hands in delight. Potter and Peter come in as well, after a rather angry looking Lily.

“Er, hullo, girls…” Peter mumbles, standing awkwardly at the foot of Lily’s bed.

Potter doesn’t waste time sitting on Lily’s bed with the most innocent face, bespectacled eyes scanning the room.

“Get. Off. That’s _my_ bed!” Lily yells, wand in hand, but Marlene is fixed on Mary, who raises an eyebrow at her and Dorcas’ hands, winks and goes on smoothly. Bless Mary. “Well, didn’t you hear the blast? Don’t you want to know what happened?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell us,” Marlene teases her.

“And why are those two here?” Dorcas points at Potter, still sitting on Lily’s bed, unlacing his boots casually like it’s his bed and his dorm. “I mean, I already see him half-naked in the locker rooms, I really don’t –”

“You won’t see him naked here!” Lily hisses. She even has her wand pointed at him, but the effect is quite ruined when she catches sight of Marlene and Dorcas holding hands, and she smiles sweetly. Marlene smiles back. At this moment, she wants to hug all her friends, swear she’ll do anything for them – Potter, too, who’s winking at them.

“Relax, I’m saving myself for Evans here,” he stretches his arms and throws one of his boots at Dorcas, who catches it easily – they aren’t Gryffindor’s best Chasers for nothing. “And I’m very sorry for the pitch invasion, you can all blame Sirius if we’re forced to sleep here –”

“You’re not sleeping on _my_ bed –” Lily starts, but Mary cuts her off.

“So, here’s what happened!” She’s clearly impatient to recount the events, and she glides in the room, her hands moving wildly. “So, we were playing spin the bottle –”

“Oh, but you must begin from the start, you know, give it some backstory,” Peter pipes in, smiling a bit too excitedly, and talking way too fast. He’s a worse gossip than Mary. “Do you know how Remus gets when we play spin the bottle? All stoic and still, like it’s a chore and not a fun game and he hates kissing people but he only does it to put up with us?”

They all chuckle a bit, albeit Marlene always felt some kind of solidarity with Remus – she reckoned the poor bloke just doesn’t care, and he doesn’t deserve to be made fun of by his friends of all people.

“But did you ever notice how embarrassed he was the few times he had to kiss Sirius? Like, he seemed disgusted or something –”

“Maybe that’s because Black smells?” Marlene asks, feeling she must somehow defend him. Too many times she’s felt less than enthusiastic playing that game – besides, Remus is just like herself: reserved.

“Hey, what? He doesn’t smell!” Potter protests, ever the first in line to defend his best mate.

“He does, only not as bad as you,” Lily deadpans.

They all laugh, Potter louder than everyone in the room.

“We’re getting off track!” Mary huffs. “So, we were playing, and everything was fine, until Maurice – it wasn’t even his turn to spin the bottle, mind you, in fact Abigail and Malik were kissing at the moment, he just leans in and whispers something in Remus’ ear and a moment later they were like, snogging! But like, really getting on it, and then out of nowhere, Black just lunges in and starts fighting poor Maurice, and then of course James and Remus got in between, and then Lily and me, and then it was _everyone_! Until Georgia said she would report us all to McGonagall if we didn’t go to bed. So we did, after some… hexing and stuff.”

Lily scoffs, and Marlene watches Potter and Peter share a look, but otherwise it’s a rather confusing story.

She looks at Dorcas, who seems just as lost.

“So…” Dorcas starts. “You two came here so those three could kill themselves in your dorm without you present because Black is… in a mood?”

Potter only shakes his head. “Oh, no, the seventh year boys took Maurice away to safety, and Sirius and Remus are in the dorm… not fighting. More like, kissing. Horizontally. Defiling _my_ bed. With less clothes than my poor eyes can handle –”

Marlene feels Dorcas laughing silently at her side, and she smiles as well – Sirius and Remus are an even more improbable couple than them. And yet, she isn’t really shocked, just as she wasn’t shocked when she kissed Dorcas before. It’s somehow a surprise that makes sense.

“And the great James Potter couldn’t have told them to stop so he could go inside his own dorm?” Lily remarks, raising her eyes heavenward.

“Evans, I _tried_ and I almost got hit with a Bat–Bogey hex – you were there, you saw it –”

“Yes, and you know how Sirius can get,” Peter, of course, is trying to back Potter up. “And I think Remus was too into it to care...”

Lily shakes her head again, sparks erupting from her wand.

“So, um...” Mary starts, looking with pleading eyes at Marlene and Dorcas. The last thing they need is Lily and James having a row at 2 A.M. in the girls’ dorm – or worse, Lily and James getting on it at 2 A.M. in the girls’ dorm.

“Mary, you can bunk with Lily, right?” Marlene asks. Mary nods with far too much enthusiasm, and Lily just shrugs.

“Potter isn’t sleeping in my bed, though – not even if it’s an empty bed,” she announces.

“I can sleep on the carpet, Evans,” Potter gifts her his most dazzling smile, all perfect teeth and chin dimple and doe–eyes. Lily manages to blush and narrow her eyes in disdain at the same time. _Just kiss already,_ Marlene thinks.

Dorcas bumps her shoulder against Marlene’s. “You don’t need to sleep on the carpet, you git – you can sleep on my bed and Peter on Lily’s, and I’ll… bunk with...”

Marlene feels herself blush under the knowing smiles of her friends. They can’t be going too fast if they’ve known each other for six years, right? Besides, when is she allowed to dive into things and feelings at breakneck speed if not at seventeen?

“You’re too cute,” Mary says, just before Potter and Lily start to argue about who gets to use the bathroom first.

Dorcas shuts the curtains close with a wave of her wand. “You don’t mind, right?”

Marlene leans in for a kiss – she doesn’t mind at all.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](https://aryastark-valarmorghulis.tumblr.com/)!


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